


The Out-Reaching Hand

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-05-19
Updated: 1999-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-11 03:25:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11140128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Ray Kowalski meets Benton Fraser, and his life is changed as a result.





	The Out-Reaching Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    Alliance owns Due South and all its characters. I'm just borrowing them
    for a while.
    
    Warning! This is a Fraser/Kowalski story, with m/m sex implied. If you
    don't like the idea of Fraser with anyone other than Vecchio, don't read.
    
    The rest of my fanfic, can be found at:
    http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Metro/4859/Lianne.html
    
    Feedback can be sent to
    
    ----------------------------------------
    The Out-Reaching Hand
    by Lianne Burwell
    May 1999
    ----------------------------------------
    
    When they first came to me, I thought they were nuts. I mean, c'mon!
    They had a detective who was a dead-ringer for some mobster, or something,
    and they were sending him undercover, but they wanted someone to pretend
    to be *him*, so that no one would realize he was gone. 
    
    Okay, maybe they'd gotten his family to go along with it, and his fellow
    cops and his friends, but really, how many people out there would know
    him well enough to know that this blond guy ain't him? How many crooks,
    ready to tell anyone for a buck? A lot, I'd bet. It was stupid and hadn't
    a hope in hell of working and I told them so.
    
    I also said sure.
    
    Yeah, I thought it was nuts, but it came at just the right time. I'd
    just finished a couple really nasty cases, I was having trouble with
    a couple cops I worked with and my divorce has just gone through. That
    last was the real kicker. Maybe I was just kidding myself, but right
    up until the last page was signed, I really thought she'd change her
    mind. I'd loved Stella since we were kids, and I thought she loved me.
    Finding out that she didn't think I was good enough anymore was like
    a punch to the gut. 
    
    So, being somebody else, if only for a while, sounded like a really good
    idea. Good-bye Stanley Raymond Kowalski, hello Ray Vecchio.
    
    I settled into the role pretty quickly. After all, the job was the same.
    So the other cops kinda danced around me for a while, trying to figure
    out how to act; that was okay. I didn't really have to deal with the
    Vecchios. They basically ignored me. As far as the world was concerned,
    I was Ray Vecchio, and Vecchio had been pretty much disowned. It wasn't
    just me, either. I think they were pissed off at him too.
    
    The only Vecchio I ever really got to know was the sister, Francesca.
    She got a job with the police as a civilian aide, so I saw her just about
    every day. Sure, she was a ditz, and she was always mangling cliches
    and phrases. Didn't matter. She also treated me like I *was* her brother.
    I'd never had a sister before, and I kinda liked it.
    
    But anyway, it was still a stupid idea but a good thing for me.
    
    Until he walked into the bullpen.
    
    Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Not that he's
    actually *mounted*, you know. All he has is a deaf wolf, no horse in
    sight.
    
    He'd been mentioned a few times; Vecchio's Mountie friend. If Fraser
    gets involved in a case, it turns weird, but usually gets solved pretty
    damn quick. When I moved into Vecchio's life, he was up in igloo land.
    Vacation, or something. First one anyone could remember him taking since
    he got himself exiled to Chicago for proving that a Mountie killed his
    dad.
    
    Anyway, I knew he'd show up sooner or later. I just wasn't expecting
    him to be so damned... perfect. You know, a real Dudley DoRight. The
    kind of guy that makes girls cream their panties. I already knew that
    Frannie had the hots for him, but I really didn't expect a Greek God
    in a red uniform. Next to him I felt like a scruffy little kid trying
    to be an adult. I mean, the guy was almost disgustingly perfect.
    
    And it took me all of two seconds to realize that nobody'd told *him*
    about what was going on. Right away, he's trying to figure out who I
    am and what I'm up to. Well, I could have told him what was going on
    right away, but I'd been told 'tell *no* one'. I was a little surprised
    they hadn't told Vecchio's best friend, but I guess he wasn't near any
    phones or something.
    
    So, we're running around town, trying to stop this arsonist who's going
    after Fraser and the *real* Vecchio, and the Mountie is driving me nuts.
    Most people would just go to my boss, or something, and say 'Hey, this
    guy ain't Vecchio! What gives?'. Not Fraser. He just keeps quizzing me
    on Vecchio's background and measuring me. I mean, he measured *everything*.
    My height, the size of my head, how far apart my eyes are, everything!
    Fraser was just plain weird.
    
    We did stop the arsonist, though we destroyed Vecchio's car while chasing
    her. He's probably gonna kill me when he sees what's left of it. I still
    have nightmares about driving through Chicago in a burning car, trying
    to find someplace to ditch it where nobody'd get hurt. Still, it was
    a win on the books.
    
    I was at my desk when Fraser came in that night. It was pretty late,
    and the only person the besides me was the Lieutenant. I was still filling
    out the gazillion forms on the crazy lady with the taste for burning
    stuff. Fraser headed for the loot's office, probably to get that explanation
    finally. I watched him go, then turned back to those damned forms.
    
    Part of me, though, was wondering what happened next. I mean, sure, teasing
    Big Red had been fun, but now he'd know the score. Was he gonna to go
    all uncomfortable on me, like the other cops? Was he gonna ignore me,
    like the Vecchios? I mean, I didn't have many close friends, and it was
    kinda nice having one, even if he was really someone else's.
    
    When the door opened again, Fraser looked thoughtful. I handed him a
    postcard that had shown up, addressed to him. Just a one-liner. He grabbed
    a lighter and ran the flame behind it, and the picture changed. I checked
    it out over his shoulder.
    
    It was a picture of Fraser and some guy. I guessed right away that it
    was the real Vecchio, and wondered again how anyone could think I could
    replace him. I mean, we didn't look anything alike!
    
    I was getting pretty nervous, wondering when he was gonna blow up at
    me, or whatever. I was headed back to my forms when Fraser surprised
    me. He was heading for the door when he turned and asked if I wanted
    to get a bite to eat. I was floored. I mean, he knew I wasn't his pal
    or anything, and he was asking me to dinner? And it wasn't just to keep
    up appearances to protect Vecchio. Fraser's one of those guys who can't
    lie with a straight face -- I'd already found that out. No, he wanted
    to have dinner with *me*.
    
    I said sure and grabbed my coat.
    
    Dinner was a little awkward. I mean, we didn't know each other or anything.
    We couldn't really talk about me, since I wasn't really *me*. Instead,
    he told me all about his vacation and the illegal dumping ring that he'd
    chased across the north pole from the sound of it.
    
    The restaurant was nice, too. Little family-run Chinese place. They obviously
    knew him, since they didn't complain about the wolf. They also looked
    a little weirded out when Fraser called me Detective Vecchio, but he
    said something in Chinese, and they all shrugged. After that, they seemed
    to accept me. I didn't know he spoke Chinese.
    
    It was nice, the food was good, and for the first time since I'd become
    Vecchio, I started to relax.
    
    * * * * *
    
    After that, Fraser and I became friends. I'd never had a friend like
    this before. Even Stella wasn't this loyal; she was too busy building
    a career. But Fraser... If I needed him, there he was. Always ready with
    help, a story or a ready ear.
    
    Everything was fine until the dreams started.
    
    Now, understand. I'm *straight*. I've even *thought* about a guy in that
    way. That was why I was shocked the first time I woke up with a sticky
    mess in my pajamas, and Fraser's name on my lips. I hadn't had a wet
    dream in years, and I'd certainly never had one about a guy. It should
    have been about Stella!
    
    We had our first big fight that day. I don't even remember what it was
    about. I guess I was just spoiling for a fight. Fighting with him was
    easier than thinking about that dream.
    
    I am *not* gay. I do *not* want a guy to... do that to me.
    
    The scary thing is, the longer the dreams went on, the less sure I was
    of that.
    
    That's why I started to push him away. I didn't dream of any other guy,
    so if Fraser wasn't around, these thoughts would go away, right? So every
    day I pushed a little harder, and every day he looked a little more confused.
    It actually built up to the point that I slugged him.
    
    Okay, I did *warn* him. He kept trying to get me to talk about it, and
    I didn't want to. So he poked and pried until I finally told him; back
    off or I'll hit you. He didn't, so I did.
    
    I felt like a shit right away, though. The hurt in his eyes. I wanted
    to hug him and say I was sorry.
    
    I wanted to kiss him.
    
    God, I wanted to kiss him.
    
    It was too late to push him away. I was trapped. The only thing left
    to do was to get the hell out of town.
    
    So, I'd transfer, after one last case. Fraser was talking about 
    transferring too. But then that business with the boats came up, and
    we were undercover on this boat full of pirates. I'm going out of my
    mind, and Fraser's leading them in a sing-along. Weird, but standard
    when dealing with Big Red.
    
    Of course things went wrong. They usually do. I get bashed over the head,
    and the boat starts sinking. I figured I was a goner, but Fraser turns
    up. He stayed behind to find me. I was really feeling like a heel for
    the way I'd been treating him. Just because my sub-conscious is lusting
    after him doesn't make it his fault. He didn't even know about it.
    
    Anyway, we're stuck on a sinking boat, and the only hope we have is to
    get to this mini-sub thingy. But to do that we gotta go through these
    flooded areas, and I don't handle those sorts of things very well. Halfway
    there, I started panicking. I couldn't breathe, and there was no place
    to go. I was gonna die. I knew it.
    
    And then Fraser's there again. He grabs onto my face, just like in my
    dreams, and he's kissing me. But when I open up, I get a mouthful of
    air. 
    
    Suddenly, I'm not so panicky about breathing anymore. Fraser's gonna
    help me. Only thing is, that mouthful of air came along with a tongue.
    Sure, it was fast, but it was definitely a tongue.
    
    When we got to an air-bubble, I asked him what that had been about. He
    called it buddy-breathing, and said he was just giving me air because
    I was panicking. For a moment, I almost bought it, but he looked guilty.
    Fraser's not good about hiding his feelings. He *had* slipped me the
    tongue. But why?
    
    I wanted to ask him about it, but it wasn't like we had time to have
    it out. First getting into the sub, and getting lost. Then that ship
    full of crazy Mounties, and finally the fight.
    
    And there was this one lady Mountie. Tall, slim, beautiful and very definitely
    interested in me. *Me*. I thought, maybe this is it. Maybe I can forget
    about the dreams, find someone else.
    
    But I couldn't. Every time I looked at her, Fraser's face popped up in
    my mind. I must have been nuts, 'cause I said 'thanks, but no thanks'
    to this goddess in a red uniform.
    
    And I left the boat with Fraser.
    
    In the end, I didn't transfer, and Fraser stayed too. He'd been thinking
    about heading back north again, but he stayed. He stayed because he was
    my friend. I am such a shit.
    
    * * * * *
    
    A couple nights later, I was sitting around at home, doing nothing. I
    even had the next day off, which was pretty rare, and I was trying to
    decide what to do with the day off when there was a knock at the door.
    
    When I opened it, I found Fraser, looking kinda uncomfortable.
    
    "C'mon in," I told him, trying to shake the feeling that this wasn't
    really a smart thing to do. 'Course, no one's ever accused me of being
    *smart*.
    
    Anyway, he hemmed and hawed when I asked him why he was there, then finally
    stood in front of me stiffly, like when he's on guard duty. 
    
    "I need to say something, Ray, and I'll understand if you don't want
    to see me afterwards. I probably shouldn't be doing this, but I don't
    think I can avoid it anymore. It's not the sort of thing that I find
    easy..." 
    
    By this time I was confused and annoyed. "Just spit it out!" I finally
    said.
    
    He stood silent for a moment, just looking at me. I was starting to wonder
    if I had something stuck in my teeth or something.
    
    "Ray..." he said, then stopped.
    
    I was just opening my mouth to ask him what the hell was wrong with him
    when he got this determined look on his face. His hands came up and cupped
    my face, like when we were underwater, like the dreams, and my eyes went
    wide. His face was getting closer and closer...
    
    And he was kissing me. None of that buddy breathing stuff, tongue or
    no tongue. This was a real *kiss*, and a damn good one too. A toe curling,
    blood rushing kind of kiss. It was like I'd plugged into a socket or
    something. I felt it *everywhere*.
    
    When he pulled away, I was plastered all over his front. I don't even
    remember doing that. His arms were around me, and it felt damn good.
    I hadn't been held like that in... well, too long. I hadn't even realized
    how much I missed being held by someone.
    
    Then he got this resigned look on his face, like he thought I was gonna
    hit him again, and started to pull back.
    
    Don't ask me why. Maybe it was the dreams. Maybe it was him. Maybe it
    was me. All I knew was I wasn't gonna let him go. Instead, I grabbed
    onto him tight and pulled him in for another kiss, only this time *I*
    was the one slipping *my* tongue into *his* mouth, and damn he tasted
    good. I heard this little whimpering noise, and was shocked to find out
    *I* was the one making it.
    
    When we finally had to let go, I was hanging onto him. I was gasping
    and grabbing at his coat, trying real hard not to cry. I mean, men don't
    cry, do they? Fraser was hugging me, and his hands were patting my back
    and he was saying things that I wasn't hearing.
    
    After a moment, I pulled away. This was the point of no return, I knew.
    Anything else, and I wasn't going to be able to pretend it was a dream,
    or that I was straight.
    
    I chewed my lip, thinking about it, then headed for the bedroom. Halfway
    there, I turned around. Fraser was still standing there, all stiff and
    proper. My throat was too tight to talk, so I just held out my hand.
    
    His face lit up, and he stepped forward and took it. Without saying a
    word, I took him to bed.
    
    Who needs words?
    
    * * * * *
    
    If this were some romance story, like the ones Frannie reads, that would
    be it. And they lived happily ever after, and all that.
    
    But this isn't a story, and it didn't quite work out like that.
    
    Hey, the sex was great. Better than I'd expected. Well, I hadn't really
    known *what* to expect, but reality outdid it. I'd always thought it
    was gross the way that Fraser would put anything in his mouth, but now
    I was glad of it. I don't think there was a single part of my body he
    didn't taste. I even did a little tasting of my own. Weird, but not bad.
    I even got to like the taste of his... well, you know.
    
    He even let me fuck him. Man, was that a rush. But I wasn't ready to
    give him the same back. I couldn't. I just... couldn't.
    
    The problem was, I wasn't sure that he really wanted *me*. I'm not exactly
    a prize. At least, Stella obviously didn't think so. So why would someone
    as perfect as Fraser want me? Okay, we were sleeping together, but deep
    down I worried. Was it me he wanted, or was I a substitute? 
    
    Now Vecchio, I could understand him wanting. And since I was here instead
    of Vecchio, maybe this was just another way I was replacing him. Soon
    as Vecchio was back, that would end it. I knew it.
    
    And then he was back. Vecchio was back, and I was sick to my stomach.
    Sick, because I was sure that it was the end of my relationship with
    Fraser. Sick because somewhere along the line I'd fallen for Fraser.
    He wasn't just a friend anymore.
    
    I was in love with him. I was in love with him and I was gonna lose him.
    I knew it. I always lose the ones I love.
    
    But before that could happen, we had to head north. I'm still not sure
    I completely understood what happened. Gun running and Mounties and the
    man who killed Fraser's mom. Oh yeah, and a nuclear submarine too.
    
    We talked more during that trip than we'd ever talked before. I'd never
    *really* known how isolated Fraser felt. As isolated as I felt, living
    another man's life, I guess.
    
    Also got to do things I'd never done before. Hike through snowy 
    wildernesses. Sleep hanging from the side of a cliff. It was a rush.
    It was an adventure. I loved it.
    
    We also nearly did inside an ice crevasse, pressed chest to chest. It
    was my fault too. If I hadn't gone running off like that, I wouldn't
    have fallen in, and he wouldn't have been pulled in after me.
    
    That was when we discussed adventures, and all the things we wanted to
    do. That was when he told me the story of Franklin looking for the Northwest
    Passage and his hand reaching for the Beaufort Sea. For some reason,
    that story grabbed me and I said I was going to find that hand after
    this was all over, even though we both knew we were probably gonna die
    right there, stuck inside a glacier like that caveman they found over
    in Europe.
    
    And we woulda died too, if it weren't for an old friend of Fraser's.
    We were singing when he found us. It's probably why he did find us, because
    he could hear us.
    
    Damn, Fraser's a good singer.
    
    That night, after we reached the Mounty camp, I told him that if he wanted
    to go back to Vecchio, I would understand. I was lying through my teeth,
    but I didn't want to be a substitute for him. I loved Fraser, and if
    Vecchio was really the guy he wanted, then I wasn't gonna stand in his
    way. There's lots of cities in America. I was sure I could find a job
    someplace else.
    
    He started telling me about his dad and Buck, and how they were always
    partners, even when they didn't see each other for months. I was waiting
    for him to tell me basically, 'it was fun, see ya', when Thatcher called
    him away. We didn't get a chance to talk again that night.
    
    So, the next day we fought the bad guys and stopped them, just like always.
    Inside, I was sure that this was the last time we'd ever work together
    
    * * * * *
    
    That night, we were camped outside the Mountie outpost. It was a little
    to small for everyone, so most of us were outside in little tents. We
    were sharing the one tent, and the same sleeping bag too. I was trying
    to enjoy it, since it was going to be the last time, I was sure.
    
    "Ray."
    
    I closed my eyes, not wanting to hear it, not wanting to see the apology
    on his face. He'd feel awful about doing it, but he'd still do it. 
    
    "Ray, I'm not going back to Chicago. I don't belong there. I belong here."
    
    I nodded, feeling the prickle behind my eyelids, and started to let go
    of him, both physically and mentally. Even if I wasn't losing him to
    Vecchio -- since I couldn't exactly see the guy moving north, although
    I thought it was great -- I was still gonna lose him.
    
    Then his arms came around me, and my eyes flew open. In the dim light
    of the campfire outside, I could see the soft look on his face.
    
    "I was thinking about what you said, about adventures. I was wondering..."
    
    He was starting to look uncertain, and I felt a little spark of hope,
    deep inside. "Wondering?" I asked, my throat starting to tighten up.
    
    "If you meant it, about looking for the hand of Franklin." I just stared
    at him. I couldn't see where he was coming from.
    
    Finally he sighed. "I was wondering if you would consider... staying
    with me."
    
    For a moment, the words didn't sink in. Then I was gaping at him. "You
    want me to stay. With you. Together."
    
    "Yes, Ray."
    
    "Me?"
    
    "Of course, Ray. Who else would I mean?"
    
    "Maybe Vecchio?"
    
    He looked really confused about that. "Why would I be talking about him?"
    
    "Well, that story you told me last night, about your dad and Buck going
    in different directions, but always knowing that they were partners,"
    I said.
    
    He blinked at me. "I didn't mean Ray Vecchio," he said. "I meant you.
    Even if you went back to Chicago and we didn't see each other again for
    years, you would still be my partner."
    
    I started to shake a little at that. "Me. Just me. Not a substitute for
    Vecchio?" I said, wanting -- no, *needing* -- the reassurance.
    
    I got it too. Fraser pulled me tight, rubbing his cheek against my forehead,
    and I started to relax for the first time since Vecchio had reappeared.
    
    "Ray Vecchio was my best friend when I came to Chicago. He helped me
    learn to deal with the city. He will always *be* my friend. But you...
    You were the last thing I ever expected to find."
    
    He stopped, then started again. "I've never been good at expressing my
    feelings," he said. "My mother died when I was young, and my father was
    never around. My grandparents tried to raise me properly, but while they
    loved me, they never said so, in so many words. The last time I thought
    I was in love, she betrayed me. I tried to avoid feeling that way again.
    I was... scared. I'm not scared anymore."
    
    He pulled back slightly, and used a finger to tilt my head back so that
    we could see each other's eyes, glinting slightly in the firelight. 
    
    "Stanley Raymond Kowalski, I love you, and I would very much like for
    you to stay with me."
    
    "You love me?" I asked, not sure that I'd heard right.
    
    "Yes." He waited, just watching me.
    
    I started to grin. I couldn't help myself. "You askin' me to marry you,
    Fraser?"
    
    His head tilted to the side as he considered the question. "Yes, Ray,
    I suppose I am."
    
    "Yes."
    
    "Yes?"
    
    "Yes. Yes, I love you too. Yes, I'd marry you, if we could. Yes, I'll
    stay."
    
    That brought out the little-boy smile that drove me wild. Then he was
    kissing me like there was no tomorrow, like he'd been worrying *about*
    tomorrow just as much as I was. Kissing me like he loved *me*.
    
    God, I love the man. The only thing I regretted was that it was too damned
    cold to actually do anything. I wanted to make love to him. 
    
    I wanted him to make love to me. Really make love to me. The way I hadn't
    let him before because I was scared. God, I wanted it.
    
    Instead, I settled for kissing and touching and the sweetest cuming 
    I can ever remember having in my life. Touching Fraser, and hearing him
    call my name, knowing this time that when he cried out 'Ray!' that he
    really meant me and not Vecchio.
    
    The next day, we made plans. I sent Welsh a telegram saying that I was
    taking a leave of absence. If we ever went back to Chicago, I might have
    a job waiting. Then again, I might not. I didn't much care. I was on
    cloud nine and nothing was bothering me.
    
    Buck set us up with a dogsled and equipment. Even a bunch of sled-dogs.
    We hitched them up, Dief in the lead, and set off into the wilderness.
    
    First stop was the cabin that Fraser's dad lived in. We did some work
    there, fixing it up to live in when we weren't off having adventures.
    I'd never really done this sort of work before, but I liked it. Chopping
    wood, swinging a hammer.
    
    Staying at the cabin also meant that I had that chance to make love with
    Fraser properly. It hurt at first, having him push inside me, but it
    was worth it. I'd never done it before, that way, and Fraser made it
    good -- very good -- for me.
    
    As soon as the cabin was done, we packed up the sled again, and set out.
    Searching for the hand of Franklin, reaching for the Beaufort Sea. 
    
    And we're gonna find it, too. I know we will.
    
    THE END
    


End file.
